For Her
by michael1812
Summary: In the quiet of the TARDIS, the Doctor is waiting. What will he come up with this time?


He rushed from one side of the TARDIS to the other, skipping the last step on each staircase with a hop. The railings were cold. The TARDIS console was always warm. And keeping her steady could be quite a handful, keeping track of all the buttons, some of which he still had no idea what they were for. Which was fun. He loved not knowing.

The sounds of his boots landing on the matte grey floor fell flat and it annoyed him. He preferred the metal grate sound. Then he noticed a spot of dust had gathered on the console, so thin he probably wouldn't have found it if he hadn't been looking for it. With a twist of his wrist he snatched a little blue cloth from the inside of his purple tweeds and proceeded to swipe the dust cleverly, until it was all clean and tidy. Then he tucked it back in his coat pocket and waited.

And waited.

He wondered whether it was good enough. He adjusted his bowtie and checked the controls again for the third time. Maybe his TARDIS had shifted into another dimension by accident, or instead of London he found himself in prehistoric Australia again. That tends to happen.

Tired of waiting, he stepped outside the TARDIS and planted his boots firmly into a soft grass bed, knocking over a garden gnome in the process. It rolled down from his spot and smashed to bits very slowly when it hit the stone tiles of Clara's backyard.

He tried to save it.

"Where the hell were you?" he said when Clara marched past him with a bag full of her things. "I've been waiting for hours!"

It had been raining not long before. Everything was still damp. His boots sank into the grass, leaving imprints. The Doctor checked the outside of the TARDIS quickly before joining Clara inside.

"It was barely five minutes," she said.

The doors of the TARDIS shut behind him with a familiar creak. Then he looked on as Clara put down her heavy backpack next to the control console of the ship that could travel through time and space. He sighed.

"Where can I put my stuff?" she asked.

"Upstairs," he said reluctantly, lifting an arm to point her the way, "down the corridor, past the library, second door on your right. And don't feed the dolphins, or they'll get bossy."

"Gotcha," she said, raising an eyebrow at his last comment.

The Doctor locked the door, leaned on the railing and waited again, tapping along anxiously with his fingers, but it only made the cold spread. His boots were all wet now, slightly somewhat soaked.  
Oh well. He jumped to his console and switched on his navigational console, although he didn't plan on using it. The science console was ready for use, and the Doctor was almost tempted to start analyzing the blue thing he found trapped under his fingernail, until he flicked it away.

"I knew you were lying about the dolphins!" Clara finally said, re-emerging.

The Doctor grinned.

"I've always wanted dolphins," he said, rubbing his hands together. He finally activated the engine and let the TARDIS drift into the time vortex again. Clara had to hold on as the ship's humming grew louder and louder. "Not as pets, mind you. They're really good navigators. Trouble is, much like cats, you can't trust a dolphin."

Just when she least expected it he pushed the accelerator. The forces of the universe pushed Clara back into her seat. The Doctor held on tight to the console. In between the bouts of turbulence he ran laps around it, pushing buttons and pulling levers until the TARDIS calmed down again.

"Clara Oswald," he said, and he waited for her to catch her breath. And he waited.

He'd had a place in mind for her for ages now, a beautiful place, somewhere out there, but all of a sudden his mind drew a complete blank. Completely forgotten. Clearly, he'd have to do better.

She was watching him closely now, set to leap from her seat at the littlest word. She'd come to trust that about him, about whatever lay beyond those doors, that she would be amazed before the end. And he didn't want to let her down.

"Want to know what's outside those doors?" he asked her, staring at her across the glowing console. The blue light cast white shadows on his face.

She looked to the door and then back again.

"Go on then," he said, and with a flip of her raven black hair, she was gone. _They grow up so fast._

In the doorway she stood, her hand gripping the handle, radiating glee like an open furnace; pleased like a child that'd just ripped open her christmas present to find out it was exactly the thing she'd always wanted.

But before she'd even taken three steps out those doors, she ran back inside, went up the stairs, down the corridor, past the library and into the second door on the right, yelling that she was going to need a warmer coat.

The Doctor smugly tightened his bowtie, wondering where he'd taken her this time. He had no idea.


End file.
